Marc Myers writes daily on jazz legends and legendary jazz recordings

December 2008

December 29, 2008

In 1968, when I was a kid, my artist parents took me and my brother to London for a few weeks on a budget summer vacation. In retrospect, I wish they had taken us a few years earlier so I could have seen Swinging London at the height of its glory. But in 1968, I still got an eyeful of bold colors, wide stripes and long hair as well as an earful of BBC hit radio. What stuck out most, in addition to Carnaby Street, mini skirts and white boots, was the steady stream of young female pop voices I heard on the odd radio set built into the headboard in the hotel room.

In the 1960s, the female pop vocalist was largely a British phenomenon. There were plenty of girl groups in the U.S. singing pop and soul. But the stand-alone teen vocalist with mom's hairdo and a prematurely deep voice belting out tunes about cheating boyfriends and catty girlfriends never really gained traction here. As popular as Connie Francis, Brenda Lee, Dionne Warwick and Mary Wells were in the mid-1960s, they weren't quite the same as the Brit gals nor were they as adored by the record-buying public.

In fact, America's Leslie Gore, Cher and Diana Ross really came in response to British solo sensations such as Helen Shapiro, Shirley Bassey, Petula Clark [pictured] and Dusty Springfield. Many of the U.S. female hit-makers were ramped up fast by record labels here in part to stave off the troubling rise in popularity of British female vocalists who were making inroads on the U.S. charts.

Fortunately for American labels, the Brit Girl Invasion never materialized. By 1964, teenage girls in the U.S. were reaching maturity. As pillow talk gave way to makeup and skirts, American teenage girls were less interested in lyrics offered up by solo girl singers and more smitten by British boy bands. [Photo: Bill Ray for Life]

In recent years, the stand-alone British female pop vocalist has made something of a comeback with the success of Amy Winehouse and Adele [pictured]. But the golden age of this English genre ran roughly from 1960 to 1967. Sadly, the potent sound has been largely forgotten or in many cases unknown. When I ran Helen Shapiro's name past a half dozen rock and pop fans over the weekend, all said "Who?"

To be fair, there's no real reason for anyone here to know of these English gals. American audiences caught only a small fraction of the British girl sound through Dusty Springfield [pictured], Petula Clark and Shirley Bassey. At the dawn of the 1960s, before transcontinental TV broadcasts and international record distribution, the U.K.'s charts and talent were largely cut off from the U.S. To this day, most people think of the pre-Beatles rock era as largely an American affair dominated by Elvis Presley, Fats Domino and Chuck Berry.

Those who are somewhat hip to the U.K.'s early rock scene usually site Cliff Richard [pictured] and the Shadows, Freddie and the Dreamers, the Dave Clark Five, Rory Storm and the Hurricanes, Gerry and the Pacemakers and other guy groups.

Lost in the shuffle are the fabulous British girl vocalists. Many of these singers were from poor families and could belt out songs with voices that masked their true age. All were charismatic, tireless and hungry for success. And all trained their initial efforts on Europe, not the U.S., which was tightly controlled by record companies and prohibitively expensive to make a dent. So many of these singers and their managers pushed for less expensive exposure opportunities on the Continent.

As the British Invasion accelerated rapidly following the Beatles' U.S. success in 1964, many British girl singers also tried to make the leap to the U.S. Many tried by raiding the songbook of Burt Bacharach [pictured] and Hal David. Yet only a few managed to capture the hearts and imaginations of American audiences. Dionne Warwick's interpretations were more mature, closer to Americans' hearts and far better promoted.

The rest of the Brit Girls remained behind in the U.K. for a range of reasons. Some had the right sound but the wrong look. Some had the right look but an unintelligible British accent. Others who clicked with Britain's more sophisticated pop listeners didn't connect with America's quirky mass market. Or they had lousy management and even worse luck. The British girl singers who remained in the U.K. managed to eke out singing careers there, many turning to jazz. But as they aged, they slipped into semi-obscurity as new trends and younger pop singers emerged.

Looking back and listening to these British girl singers, you can't help but notice how remarkable most of them were. Some took on a lusty Northern soul sound while others had a more pixie approach. All were enormously upbeat and perky. And the songs were fabulous. You listen to the high quality of these tunes and realize there's an entire slice of pop music history here that has been all but lost. And no one here has really made a fuss over them.

To illustrate, let me share with you the best of the breed, followed by audio and video clips that show why the Brit Girls of the 1960s were so special and in many cases the molds for American counterparts:

Shirley Bassey—She was the first of this genre to have a No. 1 hit in in the U.K. in 1959 with As I Love You. Though she was 22 years old at the time, Bassey straddled both the traditional 1950s pop era and emerging mod scene of the 1960s. Her recording of the James Bond theme Goldfinger in 1964 introduced her voice to the U.S., and she had greater U.K. success with the Beatles Something than the group did itself. Here's a clip of her first hit As I Love You...

Petula Clark—Born in 1933, Clark was a teenage sensation in the late 1940s and well established by the 1950s. Her first No. 1 hit in the U.K. was Sailor in February 1961. Most people aren't aware that Downtown (1964) and her other 1965-67 hits were recorded when Clark was already in her 30s. Yet visually she looked at least 10 years younger. Here Clark takes charge on one of her monster hits, I Couldn't Live Without Your Love (1966)...

Helen Shapiro—She is perhaps the first Brit teen singer of the rock era and in my opinion the best. She scored her first No. 1 U.K. single at age 14 in August 1961 with You Don't Know followed by Walkin' Back to Happiness in October. Shapiro was so popular by 1963 that the Beatles opened for her on their first U.K. tour. Shapiro almost made it in the U.S., appearing on The Ed Sullivan Show in 1961. But she was a few years too early, and by the time the Beatles hit, her look and sound were all wrong. It didn't help that her record producer of the time foolishly turned down Misery, a song that John Lennon and Paul McCartney had written for her. Go here to see Shapiro sing Look Who It Is with three of the Fab Four. And go here and listen to two powerful U.K. tracks from the late 1960s that show off Shapiro's staying power. But to appreciate Shapiro's visual take-charge attack, dig It Might As Well As Rain Until September...

Susan Maughan—[pictured] had just one hit with Bobby's Girl in 1962. But she continued to have success in Britain in the years that followed...

Kathy Kirby—Her big U.K. hits were Dance On in 1962 and I Belong in 1965...

Dusty Springfield—When Dusty left the folk trio The Springfields in 1963 and went out on her own, she became one of the first British female artists to have a massive hit in the U.S., just before the Beatles' arrival, with I Only Want To Be With You in January 1964. But it was this song from 1966 that became her only No. 1 U.K. hit...

Cilla Black—Seemingly reserved, Black made up for her plain looks with sheer lung power. One of the strongest Brit girl voices, Black had her first U.K. hit in 1963 with Love of the Loved and Anyone Who Had a Heart. Unlike most of the other girl vocalists, Black was the first significant singer to come out of Liverpool at the height of the Mersey Sound. A pal of the Beatles, she was discovered by Brian Epstein, the Beatles' manager, and helped greatly by producer George Martin. Black outsold all other female recording artists in Britain during the 1960s and was Britain's second most successful act after the Beatles. Her recording of Alfie in 1966 for the U.K. film release still staggers. Yet Black never was a household name in the U.S., largely because of her less-than-glamorous looks. Dig Black's power here in 1966...

Billie Davis—Her big hit was Tell Him, in February 1963...

Sandie Shaw—Shaw's appeal was in her mod, angular looks and strong, enveloping voice. Shaw managed to combine a free-spirited shyness with a knowing delivery that won over both male and female audiences. In 1964, Shaw had a big hit here with There's Always Someone There to Remind Me. But here's her lesser-known 1965 U.K. hit, Long Live Love...

Lulu—Best known in the U.S. for To Sir, With Love in 1967, Lulu also had a hit in 1964 with Shout. Here's another one of her U.K. hits, Leave a Little Love...

The list goes on and on. Among the many other Brit girl singers during this era were Twinkle, Julie Rogers, Samantha Jones, Barbara Ruskin and Jackie Trent, who had a 1965 hit with Where Are You Now...

JazzWax tracks: Want more? If you dig Helen Shapiro [pictured] as much as I do, here's a web site that lets you listen to many of her hits for free. And if you want to know more about the swinging British girl-singer movement, this European site (ReadySteadyGirls.eu) has loads of information and audio clips. These girls didn't have Phil Spector, the Motown machine or vital radio access to U.S. markets. But what many lacked in political power they made up for with quaint charm, youthful talent and raw confidence.

December 03, 2008

Easily, the most influential and widely imitated big band of the 1950s was Count Basie's "New Testament" orchestra. The impact that this band left on jazz, musicians, arrangers and popular music cannot be overstated. And the mere fact that Basie was able to take two completely different bands at two different points in his career to national acclaim is an astonishing feat that has never been satisfactorily recognized and applauded. Basie made it all look too easy, especially in the 1950s. His "New Testament" band recorded primarily for two labels—Clef/Verve and Roulette—and trombonist Benny Powell [pictured] was along for the entire ride. [Photo by J. Harlaar]

During his 12 years with Basie, Benny also recorded several important small-group albums, with Buck Clayton, Frank Wess, Osie Johnson, Donald Byrd and Gigi Gryce. Today, Benny continues to tour regularly with pianist Randy Weston and records with saxophonist TK Blue. He also teaches at New York's New School university.

In Part 3 of my interview with Benny, the legendary trombonist reflects on how Basie auditioned new arrangements, the band's most underrated musicians, the recording session that gave Benny goose bumps, and what happened the night on tour when the band wound up with no music:

JazzWax: Whose arrangements for the Basie band were your favorites to play?Benny Powell: The ones by Frank Foster, Frank Wess, Quincy Jones and Thad Jones. And Ernie Wilkins' charts.

JW: Whose charts had the most punch?BP: We didn't play a chart unless it had some kind of emotional impact. You have to remember that the band seldom rehearsed, except when we had new material. When that happened, Basie would sit in the audience listening, to see whether it would have the right kick.

JW: Who would run the band?BP: Marshal Royal [pictured]. He was the guy who conducted. He was the straw boss, which meant he was the director and very much instrumental in its precision and all of that. We all knew we had to play as clean and as precise as possible. Marshal didn’t have to tell us. Everyone monitored themselves. When you’re in that environment you know what to check up on.

JW: Do you remember April in Paris?BP: I don’t really remember much about that date or specific recording sessions and dates. I think I was more conscious of April in Paris when the song became a hit. At the time it was just another recording session. I really think Wild Bill Davis, who wrote and arranged it, never got his just due. Basie, of course, added that great touch, “One more time” and “One more once.” But Wild Bill’s arrangement was something else.

JW: What was your favorite Basie arrangement?BP: All of it, man. There was such a wealth of material. Going back to Hampton’s band, some of the things I enjoyed playing most were arranged by Quincy Jones and Bobby Plater [pictured]. Bobby was a very fine writer. Very underrated today. Benny Carter was Bobby's mentor. He taught Bobby how to write. His arrangements had great flair.

JW: When you'd listen to the Basie band while sitting in the middle of it, did you get goose bumps? BP: No. I only got goose bumps when we recorded with Duke Ellington’s band [First Time!, July 1961 ]. Both bands were in the same studio. I was so awestruck at being in the presence of both the Basie and Ellington bands.

JW: How was the session set up?BP: We sat on separate bandstands across from each other.

JW: What exactly gave you the chills?BP: Hearing both bands playing together. There are points where both bands are playing at the same time. There are a number of chords where both bands were voiced to play together. At the very end of a tune, the band hit the same chords, and drummers Sam Woodyard and Sonny Payne played solos over those chords. When the band was hitting those chords, the force of all of those horns playing at the same time was like walls of sound.

JW: Looking back, what do you remember most about the Basie band?BP: I can remember that the biggest impression was playing in Europe for queens—the Queen of England [pictured] and the Queen of Denmark. That was very impressive. Playing for a queen was almost like a dream. I’m from New Orleans, and Royal Albert Hall is a long way from New Orleans.

JW: Those tours abroad must have been amazing.BP: They were. A lot of people over there at the time had never heard a big band before. A lot of people there had never seen African-Americans before. We were really exotic, and we were treated with admiration and respect. We had our pick of the ladies. Everyone wanted to come aboard the Basie bus.

JW: Throughout the 1950s, you also freelanced on other musicians' dates.BP: My first recording outside the Basie band was a Buck Clayton jam session in 1953. I got that through a recommendation from producer John Hammond. That was the first big-time date I had. John was trying to encourage me and push my career, so he made that opportunity available to me.

JW: Who in the Basie band deserved greater recognition?BP: Henry Coker was a fine trombonist who didn’t get his just due. Trumpeter Joe Newman, too.

JW: Did the trombonists in the Basie band get along?BP: Oh, yes. We were like stepchildren because we didn’t get the first solos. After the trumpet players finished, the tenor saxophonists would get a shot and then the drummer. Then maybe we’d have eight bars. We felt we didn’t get our just props. We stuck together as a result. [Pictured: Henry Coker]

JW: Why was the trombone viewed that way?BP: The instrument doesn’t project as well as the others in a band. The trombone just isn't as loud or as instantly exciting as a trumpet or saxophone. A trumpet projects much brighter, as does a tenor sax. Of course, drummers can project. Same thing in a symphony orchestra: The cellos and violas are never viewed as prominently as the violinists. The violas and cellos get the scraps. [Pictured: Basie trombone-mate Bill Hughes]

JW: How about the Atomic Basie band of 1957 and beyond?BP: All of Basie’s bands were exciting.

JW: But how good was the Atomic Basie band?BP: Beyond belief. I remember we went to Europe, and somehow the music didn’t get to London in time. We had to play an entire concert with no music. It blew everyone’s mind. The next day, what we had accomplished was all over the press. I don’t know if we even had music stands in front of us.

JW: How did you pull that off?BP: The band had been together so long as a unit that we had memorized all of the sheet music. Plus, Basie’s directing and leadership had been minimal, so we knew what to do. Later in my career I got a chance to lead the Basie band. Before I did, I was thinking in my head, “What am I going to do, and how will I wave my hand for this note or that note?” Suddenly I realized that for the whole 12 years I was in the band, no one stood in front of the band conducting or telling you what tune was next. So I didn’t have to worry as much or over-think it.

JW: How did the Basie band know what to play if there was no song list and Basie never called out the tunes?BP: What Basie would do is play an introduction familiar to everyone.

JW: Didn’t that mean you had to scramble for the music?BP: Not really. We had it memorized. Or in other situations, Basie would play long introductions, long enough for us to pull the music loose. Basie never had to call a set or say, “We’re going to play this or that or the other thing.” After one bar of Basie playing that piano, we knew what the song was going to be. He was an amazing minimalist. He always got more for less.

JW: When did you leave the band?BP: In 1963. I wanted to try and make a name for myself. I had been in the band for 12 years and wanted to try different things, like leading my own band. I had exhausted all the possibilities available to me in Basie’s band. But it took me a few extra years to officially leave.

JW: Why?BP: Every time I would go to Basie to give him two weeks’ notice, he’d say, “OK Benny, but that’s too bad because you’re going to miss this next tour of Sweden.” I didn’t want to miss that, so I’d respond, “OK, well, maybe I can take that back and leave another time.”

JW: Basie was clever wasn’t he?BP: Oh yes [laughing]. He knew how to dangle that carrot. He was very subtle. He didn’t say, “Don’t leave.” He’d say, “Too bad you’re going to miss some fun.” He was a gregarious guy.

JW: I wonder how many other guys stayed on with the band longer thanks to that carrot trick.BP: He had a bunch of carrots. He had different carrots for different rabbits [laughing].

JW: You recorded with Basie and Frank Sinatra in the early 1960s and in 1984, for L.A. Is My Lady, which actually was recorded in New York. Both were arranged by Quincy Jones.BP: Frank was always highly professional. Always very prepared. He never hung around and made small talk. The band would be very well rehearsed prior to his arrival in the studio. He’d come in and do his shot. Very seldom would we have to do two takes on anything. And then he’d leave.

JW: Were any of the solos behind Sinatra improvised?BP: No. Quincy had written everything out in terms of who would play behind Frank, when they’d play and what notes they’d play. It wasn’t a loose affair. Frank decided who would play behind him.

JW: What are you doing now?BP: I just released a new album called Nextep, with TK Blue on alto and soprano sax and flute, Sayuri Goto on piano, Essiet O. Essiet on bass and Billy Hart on drums. The album is a culmination of New Orleans Second Line marching music, and rhythms from South Africa and the Caribbean. I called it Nextep because our next step is to be recognized as composers of original songs.

JW: You have played with TK Blue for some time.BP: Yes, we’ve been playing and touring with pianist Randy Weston for 15 to 20 years. TK [pictured] is head of C.W. Post College's music department. He’s an extremely talented and humane guy. A good human being who’s spiritual and caring, and an original musician.

JW: Where are you appearing next?BP: I’ll be at New York’s Birdland from December 21st to the 26th.

JW: Not bad for a guy from New Orleans.BP: Life is an amazing journey.

JazzWax tracks: When Count Basie's band wasn't touring or recording in the 1950s, Benny recorded on several superb small-group dates. These included a Buck Clayton jam session in December 1953, on which he recorded two tracks: Moten Swing and Sentimental Journey. Both are available here on a three-CD, Lonehill release called Buck Clayton: Complete Legendary Jam Sessions, Master Takes.

Benny also recorded on a spectacular session led by Frank Wess for Commodore in May 1954. The recordings are on a CD called Wess Point that's available here.

Another excellent session featuring Benny in a small group setting was on a date led by drummer Osie Johnson in February 1955. Benny recorded four tracks, which can be found at iTunes on Osie's Oasis. The four tracks are Blues for the Camels, Flute to Boot, Johnson's Whacks and Osmosis.

In 1957, Benny played on Donald Byrd and Gigi Gryce's magnificent Jazz Lab recording. The album is available on CD here. Or you can download Nica's Tempo, Smoke Signals and Speculation from Gigi Gryce's Nica's Tempo album at iTunes.

Benny's current album, Nextep, can be found at iTunes or here at Amazon.

JazzWax tracks: To see Benny in action today and hear his suede-soft tone, go here.

December 02, 2008

By the late 1940s, Lionel Hampton had begun to turn out a growing number of jump-boogie jukebox hits that compressed strong swing tempos with catchy bebop lines. But for all of Hampton's success, he had trouble holding onto sidemen. Like most extraordinary entertainers who came to prominence in the swing era, Hampton was an incorrigible spotlight hog, demanding that the focus and adulation be on his performances and stage routines. While this me-first approach worked wonders for the Hampton brand, it left many of his band's musicians yearning for recognition. Benny Powell [pictured, top] was among them.

In Part 2 of my interview with the legendary trombonist, Benny talks about Lionel Hampton, the toll that racial prejudice took on his soul while touring in the late 1940s, his move to Canada and return to New York, and how he came to join Count Basie's newly formed band in late 1951:

JazzWax: Do you remember your audition for Lionel Hampton’s band in 1948?Benny Powell: Not the details, but I’m sure I was scared. I remember that the band could jump. One thing I learned from Hampton is that you are both a musician and an entertainer. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are entertaining people for the set they are coming to see. A lot of musicians look at entertainers as guys who just tell jokes with an extroverted persona.

JW: How did Hampton get that across to you?BP: By watching him. It was fascinating. We’d play big venues and he’d get people in the audience so excited. You couldn’t believe it. He’d strive to do that each time. After playing for a while, members of the audience would become like those people in Morocco who do the Guerda dance and work themselves into a frenzy. Hampton purposefully tried to put people into a trance-like state. I’ve seen ladies start taking off their clothes and men do crazy stuff. People would hear Hampton’s music and enthusiasm and get so involved it took them out of themselves.

JW: Did you get solos with Hampton?BP: Not as much as I’d like. He was a pretty self-centered guy. If a musician got too much applause on a solo, that person wouldn’t get that chance again. Somehow he was jealous of that. He liked the spotlight all for himself and was a little selfish because of it.

JW: Why was that?BP: People said he learned that from Benny Goodman. I understand Benny had the same type of personality. Hampton wasn’t a very sharing man. I suppose in retrospect, I wish he would have set a better example and was a better role model. After all, I was just a teenager when I joined his band. I didn’t have an extroverted personality, and I didn’t really try to win his favor. I wanted to do it with my talent and dignity.

JW: Dignity?BP: This was the 1940s and dignity was an important part of the African-American persona. I preferred to make it on my own and with dignity rather than groveling after someone and adjusting my personality to win his favor. [Photo of Hampton by Rex Hardy, Jr., for Life]

JW: Who were the big saxophone soloists in Hampton’s band while you were there?BP: There were no big household-name soloists in the 1948-49 band. We had a few guys who were great but pretty much unknown. We had Gil Bernal [pictured] and Johnny Board. Of course, the band also had Bobby Plater, Al Grey and Wes Montgomery.

JW: What year did you leave?BP: In early 1951. Hampton played Ottawa, Canada. By that time I was all of 21. Between Hampton’s pettiness and the racial prejudice in the U.S., I was fed up. When we played in Ottawa, I discovered a place where neither pettiness nor prejudice existed. It was Hull, Quebec. It was the first time I saw that jazz could be played as important music in a museum. I left Hampton’s band soon after and moved to Hull.

JW: Was life in the U.S. hard on you as an African-American in the late 1940s?BP: Racial prejudice was really getting to me. I couldn’t understand why people didn’t like me before they knew me. Racial prejudice existed all over the U.S. in the 1940s. There were signs up telling you where to eat and sit on trains, and which bathrooms to use. It’s hard to imagine now. Even in the trolley cars in New Orleans, on the backs of seats you’d see signs that told you where you could sit and where you couldn’t sit. It was demeaning and emotionally exhausting not to mention depressing. Worst of all, it was accepted by the federal, state and local governments and by local societies down South. It permeated everything. [Photo: Trolley—New Orleans, by Robert Frank]

JW: Were you happy in Hull?BP: Well, yes. Until I decided to come back to New York.

JW: How so?BP: When I was living in Hull, my mother called to tell me that the FBI had come to the house looking for me. They didn’t know why I was living in Canada. And apparently I had missed my draft notice. When they found out I was up in Canada, they thought I had moved up there to dodge the draft. I hadn’t. I was up there to dodge the prejudice.

JW: What happened?BP: My mother told me to come back and straighten things out with the draft board. So I did. I was 4F because of kidney problems, and the FBI didn’t know that. After I straightened that out, I headed back to Hull. But as I was about to cross the border into Canada on the train, immigration woke me up at 2 am and asked me if I was living there permanently. I said yes, which clearly was the wrong answer. I was taken off the train and put on a southbound train to New York.

JW: What did you do back in New York?BP: I played with a number of bands. I also wrote a letter to Charlie Ventura asking if he needed a trombonist. A friend of mine, trombonist Bennie Green, was part of his band. I also wrote to Illinois Jacquet for the same reason. In the meantime, I was working at the Apollo Theater with saxophonist Joe Thomas’ band. Charlie Fowlkes [pictured] was in that orchestra and told me that Count Basie was organizing a new big band. This was just after Basie had his small group with Wardell Gray and Buddy DeFranco. So I rehearsed with Basie's band in October 1951.

JW: Do you remember your initial conversation with Basie?BP: Basie wasn’t a very talkative guy. There was a rehearsal, and I sat in. That was it. After the rehearsal, I never found out whether he was putting together a big band permanently. I was told I would be advised of the next rehearsal. Of course, I got the call, and we started doing one-nighters a short distance from New York. Billy Eckstine was the one who talked Basie into getting a band together again. He caught Basie’s small group somewhere and said to Basie, “Your small group is fine but you belong with a big band.” Billy sort of talked him into it and gave him the music stands. At this time, Billy had broken up his own band.

JW: Was your spot in Basie’s new band permanent?BP: I never found out. I was anxious to know so I could plan my own future. I began asking Basie slyly, “Mr. Basie, how did you like the trombone section?” He’d say, “It was OK kid," without too much enthusiasm.

JW: Did you always call him Mr. Basie?BP: Of course.

JW: No one ever called him Count?BP: I’m sure some people did. Very few of his friends called him Count. The Basie band prior to the one I was in, with Lester Young, Buck Clayton and so on, they had a name for him: Holy Main. I’m not sure why. They had all sorts of names for him. When people are loved by their friends, friends give them nicknames. Basie had a lot of names like that.

JW: Was Basie’s band exciting?BP: I was 21, man. Everything was exciting. Basie was larger than life, and being with him was larger than life. I kept asking him in the beginning if I was hired permanently rather than just for weekends. I’d sidle up to him and ask if he liked this or that. Embarrassing things a kid would ask a grownup. After asking five or six times, the closest thing I got to a “yes” was “You’re here, ‘ain’t you kid?” So I decided I’d just leave it alone.

JW: In 1953, Johnny Mandel was in that band.BP: He and I were roommates for a few minutes. He was a beautiful guy. Still is.

JW: What don’t people know about Basie that you observed?BP: Well, he was more of an uncle figure to me. He was a very caring man, and always impressed on us that we were a family. To this day, Frank Wess [pictured] lives two stories above me in my building, and I saw Frank Foster yesterday. Snooky Young and Joe Wilder are also surviving members of the band. I don’t see Snooky that often, though, because he lives in California. We still have that kind of family thing.

JW: What did you think of Basie?BP: For me, Basie was like an uncle. He used to give me advice. He was a role model without having to say a word. He taught me how to dress. So did Freddie Green [pictured], who was sort of like the Fred Astaire of fashion in the band. Basie and Freddie always had the best shoes. Basie taught me about textures in garments, grooming, manners, all of that. He was a role model by example.

JW: How was Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis?BP: He was a strong force. He was a great businessman and club manager as well as a fierce tenor saxophonist. Most people don’t realize he was actually a very nice guy who just had gruff ways of showing it. I think he came up in a tough section of the Bronx. I never saw him exert his physical strength. But he was vocally tough so no one started up with him. And he’d handle that saxophone like a toy plane.

JW: Was Basie OK with Lockjaw’s ego?BP: Oh, absolutely. Basie liked that stuff. Basie was a very patient man. Same with Duke. They could deal with all types of personalities. Nothing was an affront to them. Jaws got along great with [saxophonists] Frank Wess and Frank Foster. Everyone in the band had enormous respect for each other.

JW: Were you improving quickly as a trombonist in Basie’s band?BP: Just being in Basie’s band helped my self-esteem. I wasn’t conscious of growing as a musician.

Tomorrow, Benny talks about his favorite Basie arrangers, the Basie recording session that gave him goose bumps, Basie's sly trick for keeping musicians from leaving the band, and where Basie would sit when the band played a new chart for the first time.

JazzWax tracks: Basie's "New Testament" recordings between 1951 and 1957 recently were remastered and released as The Complete Clef/Verve Count Basie Fifties Studio Recordings (Mosaic Records). The fabulous eight-CD box set features Benny as a member of the band's highly efficient three-man trombone section and documents the orchestra's flowering as America's greatest swing band.

The box includes Neal Hefti's [pictured] game-changing arrangements for the band, such as Fawncy Meetin' You, Sure Thing, Why Not?, Every Tub, Plymouth Rock, Cherry Point and others. Ernie Wilkins' charts are here, too, including Peace Pipe, Stereophonic, Sixteen Men Swinging and the swinging Dolphin Dip among others. There's even Johnny Mandel's Straight Life from 1953, which in many ways set the band's cooler course going forward. And, of course, there are many arrangements by band saxophonists Frank Foster and Frank Wess as well as tracks with band vocalist Joe Williams.

Benny Powell's earlier recordings with Lionel Hampton's band can be found at iTunes on a download called Hampton: Juke Box Hits, 1943-1950. Tracks on which Benny is in the band include Beulah's Boogie, Drinkin' Wine Spo-Dee-o-Dee, Pink Champagne, Rag Mop and Everybody's Somebody's Fool with Little Jimmy Scott on vocal. Or you can hear a good percentage of Benny's recorded tracks with Hampton on Lionel Hampton: 1949-1950, Lionel Hampton 1950-1951 and Lionel Hampton: 1951-1953, all on the French Classics label. All three CDs can be found at Amazon.

JazzWax video clip: To give you a sense of the energy level and extraordinary skills of Hampton and his band, go here and see Bongo Interlude, a short from mid-1951. Benny had already left the band by this date. Dig Hamp's stick tosses toward the end and note that by curtain, he isn't even out of breath.

Benny Powell and I watched this clip together and he picked out the different instrumentalists. That's Benny Bailey on trumpet, with Jerome Richardson and Bobby Plater on flutes and Milt Buckner on organ.

December 01, 2008

Benny Powell is probably best known for his trombone solo on Count Basie’s hit, April in Paris. Benny's Tommy Dorsey-like reading comes about 44 seconds into the 1955 track, when he gently trots out the song’s theme and states the melody with enormous warmth and grace. Benny is one of only a handful of surviving members of Basie’s original "New Testament" band. In the 1950s, the band pioneered a cooler style of swing with an emphasis on sectional conversation, loping syncopation and the prowess of individual soloists.

During Benny's Basie years and beyond, his trombone attack has been notable for its powdery sensitivity and taste. But while Benny has long made beauty a priority, he also has been quick to drop the velvet gloves to blow. Examples include several small-group recording dates led by Frank Wess and Osie Johnson in the mid-1950s and Donald Byrd and Gigi Gryce's Jazz Lab sessions of the late 1950s.

Today, Benny, 78, teaches music at New York’s New School university and continues to play and tour with pianist Randy Weston and saxophonist TK Blue. In Part 1 of my three-part interview series with the legendary trombonist, Benny talks about his early years, how he came to the trombone, life on the road in the mid-1940s, and the role singer Betty Carter played in helping him land a job with Lionel Hampton's band in late 1948:

JazzWax: What's your fondest memory about growing up in New Orleans?Benny Powell: The parades. The city was sort of like a carnival every day. You didn’t have to wait for Mardi Gras season to hear parades. They had funeral processions in the streets all the time, since people died throughout the year.

JW: Roughly how often did you see and hear funeral parades?BP: I guess once a month you’d hear and see a procession with musicians. Growing up in that environment, you get passionate about the sound of music. When I was young, I always wondered why there was so much music in New Orleans, more so than in other cities. Later on I realized that New Orleans had no industry to speak of. The main industry was tourism, which accounted for all the music and entertainment. It also was a place that celebrated so many holidays, and there was different music for each occasion.

JW: Did you have brothers and sisters?BP: Yes. I had three sisters. They were very lovely. They looked out for me. One was older and two were younger. My dad died when I was 5 or 6 years old of a heart attack. Ironically, he worked at the time for the New Orleans’ Board of Health. When he died, my mom, me and my three sisters were left to fend for ourselves.

JW: Your mom was in a tough spot.BP: My mom was a fantastic lady. She had the equivalent of a college degree at that time. But due to economic circumstances after my dad died, she had to take domestic work ironing shirts and cleaning people’s houses. But she managed to send us all to college. I only stayed in college a short time before I started traveling with bands. My sisters graduated, though. My mother was a saint. She would go to a shrine every morning and pray. I guess her prayers came through, because we all turned out to be decent people.

JW: How did she keep you in line?BP: By talking common sense to me. Whenever I screwed up, she’d remind me how hard it was to do what she was doing, and I would feel like two cents. That’s all it took to keep me in line. My mom never really had to beat any of us or take harsh measures because she could sort of talk common sense, and we’d fall in line automatically. We’d quickly realize that what she was saying was true.

JW: How did you come to the trombone?BP: An uncle who sort of pitched in to help my mother acted as a surrogate father. I was at his home one day, leaning backward on the couch and observed a trombone in a case on the floor. I asked him if I could see it. My uncle took it out and handed it to me.

JW: Was that the first time you saw a trombone?BP: No, I had seen the instrument before in one of those parades. I was riding in a car that had a top down. A man with a trombone was right behind the car, and I had a chance to observe him. I was fascinated by his exuberance while marching in the street. I also noticed that the band playing in the street would take a break at certain times, and go somewhere to have refreshments. I noticed all the ladies kind of flocked around the musicians, which was another intriguing thing. So I guess all of this pointed toward my interest in the trombone when I saw it at my uncle’s house.

JW: How old were you?BP: I was 12 years old. My uncle let me have the trombone that day, and my mother immediately sent me to a guy named Eddie Pierson for lessons at his home after church each Sunday. I practiced every day. I was a pretty diligent guy. My mother and her hardships made me an older man real soon, forcing me to think ahead, like an adult. Actually, my first instrument was a parade drum in grammar school. In grade school I was in the same band as Vernell Fournier [pictured], the drummer. We also went to college together. He was a master on the drums.

JW: Were you able to sight-read quickly?BP: Yes, through my lessons and practicing. My teacher was really helping me. I also joined a kids’ band. There was a guy who had a restaurant, and his son was and still is a musician. The restaurant is called Dooky Chase's, and it’s still there. Being in the kids’ band helped me advance myself musically.

JW: When were you first paid to play in a band?BP: At age 14. My first professional date was at the local USO, where we entertained soldiers. For the longest time I thought I was a genius for being hired so young. But soon I realized I got the job because all the older guys were in World War II, and dance bands and halls needed anybody who could play.

JW: Do you remember what you played on that first gig?BP: We were reading stock arrangements of songs that other bands had made famous. On this particular date, I remember one of the tunes we played was Song of India. There was a trombone solo that I played. I would memorize parts fast and then just look at the music as though I were reading it.

JW: Who was your biggest influence back in the mid-1940s? BP: I had been listening heavily to Tommy Dorsey and J.J. Johnson [pictured]. They were my heroes. Tommy eventually gave me one of his trombones when I was in the Basie band. He also gave trombones to my Basie bandmates Henry Coker and Bill Hughes. I still have it. I’m thinking about selling it to help put my kids through college. I cherish the horn. It has etchings and designs all over it. It's beautiful.

JW: What was next?BP: I went to Alabama State Teacher’s College for one semester. When I came home for the summer, there was a musician in my neighborhood who was going to Texas to join King Kolax’s band. King Kolax [pictured] was a trumpeter, and he needed a trombonist. I asked my mother if I could go. After talking to this other guy who was a little older than me and getting him to promise to look out for me, my mother allowed me to go. I joined King Kolax in Port Arthur, Texas. Kolax had been a trumpet player with Billy Eckstine’s band. I understand that Charlie Parker and John Coltrane had played with Kolax, too.

JW: How long were you with Kolax?BP: About a year. We mostly played on weekends. Then we went out on tours to towns about 200 miles away. One time we were stranded in Oklahoma City. Being stranded meant you got to a city and either the club had burned down or there was some mistake with the booking. Either way, you had to stay there until the head office sent you money for transportation. Rather than wait, I joined Ernie Fields [pictured], who had a territory band based in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

JW: How long were you with Fields?BP: Also about a year. When I was in Tulsa, in 1948, Lionel Hampton’s band was touring in the area. He had just played Oklahoma City when his trombonist left. I auditioned for the band and got the job. Later I found out that vocalist Betty Carter [pictured] figured in my success. She was sort of Hampton’s liaison to the bebop world. At the time, she was called Betty Bebop. After my audition, she apparently had given me the thumbs up. She told Hampton I could play in the new bebop idiom, and he was eager at the time to hire musicians who could do so, given how popular bebop was becoming.

JW: How did you learn to play bebop?BP: I was passionate about bebop from the day I first heard J.J. Johnson on records in 1946. Emery Thompson, a trumpet player, had brought J.J.’s records back from New York. I still remember the first bebop song I heard—Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie’s Shaw ‘Nuff.

Tomorrow, Benny reflects further on Lionel Hampton, why Benny moved to Hull (Canada), events that caused him to return to New York, and his big break just as Basie was organizing a new big band in late 1951.

JazzWax tracks: To get a feel for the music Benny heard growing up in New Orleans, download Magnificent Seventh's Brass Band: Authentic New Orleans Jazz Funeral from iTunes or at Amazon here. J.J. Johnson's earliest recordings, the 1946 bebop dates that influenced Benny and a generation of trombonists, can be found on J.J. Johnson: Origins (The Savoy Sessions) at iTunes or here at Amazon. To hear Betty Carter with Lionel Hampton in May 1949, download The Hucklebuck from Lionel Hampton: Jukebox Hits 1943-1950 at iTunes.

About

Marc Myers writes regularly for The Wall Street Journal and is author of "Anatomy of a Song" (Grove) and "Why Jazz Happened." Founded in 2007, JazzWax is a two-time winner of the Jazz Journalists Association's best blog award.